Split Soul
by Juulna
Summary: This is not the soulmate trope you are looking for...


Rey shaded her eyes as she took in the hustle and bustle of the market town. It was cold, today – not unlike a Jakku night – but the sun was shining brightly, warming her skin just enough as she tried to figure out exactly which stall she should approach. She needed a specific component for the _Falcon_ , and Chewie had directed her here when she had checked in with base.

All she needed to figure out now was exactly where…

Twenty minutes later found her haggling energetically with an old woman, smiles breaking out across both of their faces as they enjoyed the easy banter and the thrill of being met with another skilled at the process such as they were.

After they'd successfully completed their trade, and were both satisfied, the woman – called Netta – invited her to partake in the traditional drink that she insisted was reserved for large trades such as the one they had just finished. In the comfortable lull in conversation that had fallen over them after their first sips of the hot beverage, Netta reached over and tapped her finger against the elegant grey lines that were peeking out from underneath Rey's arm wraps.

"You haven't met them yet, then?" she asked in the same fashion as the women on Jakku had asked – it seemed it was a habit, a tradition even, on more worlds than just her own.

Rey bit back her initial response at that realization, and instead settled for a bemused, "No, not yet."

Netta raised a white-haired eyebrow. "No, your first instinct was correct; we old ladies simply don't have any more manners left in us at this point in our lives." She laughed, flashing the same bright smile as before at Rey, and then winking. "We push and pry, knowing that our young ones won't have the heart to be disrespectful – never mind the fact that it's really us who are being rude."

"And yet it doesn't stop you," Rey replied dryly.

Netta barked out a loud laugh, and Rey joined along with her after a moment. "Oh, I like the sass on you, child! Better than my grandson." She eyed Rey appraisingly. "Care to…"

Rey ducked her head and blushed. "I'm… a little tapped out on that end, I must admit, Netta," she politely refused. "I… maybe I could visit again some other time, when I'm not so… tired?"

Netta smiled softly. "I'd like that. You are welcome at any time, young one"

Quickly wrapping up their business, Rey made arrangements for the part to be delivered the next morning, and then set off towards the ship.

She wasn't even halfway through the market when something caught her eye. Something… something familiar.

At least she thought it was.

Picking up her pace, Rey ducked around the corner just in time to see a flash of black hair disappear around another corner.

Ice settled in the pit of her stomach.

She swung her quarterstaff from off of her back, holding it firmly in one hand as she took off at a dead run for the next corner.

"Stop and get away from them!" she yelled, moments after she rounded the corner.

For none other than Kylo Ren was in the market, and he was speaking with two small urchin children. Rey's heart pounded in her throat as she took in the scene, and remembered terror fought to overwhelm her even now, four months after she'd last lain eyes on him in the forests of _Starkiller_.

No one had seen him since, and only the twins' insistence that he were still alive had kept her from believing the rumors of his death – for surely with injuries such as he had sustained, and the complete destruction of the planet not even twenty minutes later…

But no. He was here. He was right here.

And he was turning around slowly as he raised to his full height…

…achingly familiar, yet oddly displaced debonair grin firmly in place.

The quiet of the market immediately around them, and Rey's harsh breaths – more from primal _fear_ than from exertion – caused the grin to start slipping from his face.

"Miss?" he queried, flipping his dark hair from off of where his eye was covered – she couldn't stop staring at the long, thin scar that bisected his face, a long cry from the ragged wound she had left upon his skin all those months ago.

That, and the grin from a moment ago, nearly made her wonder if she had the right man after all.

And then she gasped, horrified, as he continued seamlessly into asking, "Do you know me?"…and the words writ upon the skin beneath her arm bands seared hot, hot, _hot._

The words she knew so very well.

The words which were now black; the product of a soul bond taking form.

Rey's other hand was covering her mouth as she stared at her forearm, aghast. She didn't have to see the black lines – the ones which had just been grey – to know what had happened.

She knew it to her very bones.

But why not on… why not on _Starkiller_ –

Suddenly, her hand was being pulled away from her face, and her eyes flicked up to stare in horror at the man who was now immediately in front of her.

He was _touching_ her.

Kylo Ren was touching _her_.

And she hadn't even heard him approach.

That, more than anything, had Rey jumping back over three feet and into a defensive posture, quarterstaff held at the ready.

"Stay back!" she yelled, her hands twitching as she struggled with the urge to grab the lightsaber tied to the back of her belt – her instincts told her the quarterstaff would do for now, while he was still close; that it was better to be armed and ready with what she had instead of letting her guard down for a single second while this undeniable threat was before her.

She would not be making the same mistake as she did on Takodana, relying on her lightsaber as she had the blaster that Han had given her, rather than the quarterstaff which was instinctive to her nature.

"I…" Kylo looked lost.

In fact, he looked like…

Like he wasn't Kylo Ren.

Rey was _extremely_ perturbed.

"I…" she started before Kylo queried tentatively,

"Isn't it _good_ that we found each other?"

Rey had no idea what to say besides, "No! No, it _isn't_ good!"

Kylo looked hurt, and… and Rey had never thought that she would _care_ , but there was something so completely wrong with everything that was going on that she had no idea what was right and what was wrong anymore.

She _never_ thought that she'd ever feel that way.

Glancing quickly to both sides out of the corner of her eyes, Rey realized that the side street was now completely empty – at least that she could see. Looking back at Kylo, she –

" _No!_ Stay back!" she yelped, suddenly stumbling back and away from the man, her lightsaber suddenly thrumming to life as she brought it up between them.

Rey had barely taken a single step back when Kylo's face twisted into a rictus of pain. Within a split second the man hand lunged forward, shoving Rey's back up against the wall of a building, one hand pushing her lightsaber-wielding arm to the side, and the other hand clenched around her throat just tight enough to restrict her breathing.

Her – _his_ – words burned beneath the hand upon her saber arm.

"So _you're_ the girl – the one he's been waiting his whole miserable existence for," Kylo snarled into her face.

Rey had barely widened her eyes in response to his declaration before he tilted his head to the side, staring at her as if she were a curiosity – a bug to be trodden upon.

Then Kylo smiled, and Rey wasn't sure if she preferred this one… or the one from earlier. The one from…

… " _Ben_."

* * *

 **Note: There's always the possibility of more! I know it's deliberately vague, but I like it that way. No need to spell things out, haha. This was inspired by a few things, but most especially from conversations with ElmiDol while she was writing her new reylo fic, Depths Give Up Their Dead on AO3. Also, inspired by the concept that the Winter Soldier is two different people.**

 **Hope you liked this!**

 **Disclaimed. Thanks Annaelle and Perry_Downing for your marvelous betaing and soundboarding. xoxo**


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